User blog comment:Brigadier Barty/Redwall Wars: A Deadly Turn/@comment-26255114-20150329041648/@comment-26141072-20150329044140

Rosebrush lounged inside the crew's accomodations, finding the world a bit less exciting. Blood stained her purple skirt, but it would only highlight the bones that were sewn on, clanking ominously when she moved. The fox maid studied her rapier blade. No chips. Good. Showing her long fangs in a pleased smile, Rosebrush turned to watch the jubilant vermin singing in off-key voices and drinking up their extra rations of grog--a celebration allowance. Rosebrush stepped lightly away from the other crew, not feeling inclined to join in. As she left the cramped space, she allowed herself an exhillerated laugh as she relived the fighting in her memory. Poor fools!

The deck was far more quiet than the crew's accomodations. Rosebrush cheerily began whistling, swishing her rapier carelessly--but stopping the moment she spotted Virago. It wasn't that the two were on bad terms, Rosebrush just had never liked the weasel. She swished her bushy tail, wafting perfume around and descended below decks again, going down to the bottom decks. Cooly eyeing the slaves, Rosebrush could easily tell which were new and which were old. Rosebrush's poisonous smile flashed down upon the slaves, before she stopped, facing towards Cawn. "Ah Cawn, just the stoat I was about ta see.  I have a little bitty question.  Where in the world did these ships and slaves come from?" Rosebrush hated not knowing things, although she was very good at making other creatures uncomfortable because she never told them everything. She wasn't bothered very much at not quite knowing who they had attacked, but she wanted to. Suddenly, there was a small commotion behind the two of them. Rosebrush smoothly turned around. Oh. An otter having a little argument with one of the crew. Dear oh dear. ..